Drake's Magic Shop
by Penningpastiche
Summary: Kid!Caskett. Twelve-year-old Ricky and nine-year-old Katie meet for the first time in Drake's Magic Shop. One-shot.


**Yay my first Castle fic in a long time! This one's actually really old, one I thought of while watching Poof! You're Dead,**__**and the scene outside the magic shop when Beckett mentions that she used to visit it as a kid. I always wondered if maybe they had met there before…. UA, since obviously they didn't ACTUALLY meet until Flowers For Your Grave and also I'm changing their ages slightly to make them closer in age. **

It was mid-afternoon on a Sunday, and twelve-year-old Ricky Rogers was very, very bored. Normally a day like this was the perfect time to take a swing by Drake's Magic Shop and stock up on magic supplies and pranks. But after the last incident with the whoopee cushion—he took a moment to mourn that poor cushion, now probably sitting in a landfill somewhere or on a barge heading that way—he doubted his mother would let him just gallivant over there and buy what he wanted.

So he started formulating a plan. It had also been a few days since he had visited Comicadia, which gave him a reason to leave the apartment. It was only a couple of blocks away, and he knew his mom wouldn't have a problem with it. And if he bought comics, the bag they would be put in was the perfect disguise for magic supplies. _Genius, _he thought, grinning.

His plan decided, he pocketed his allowance as well as a bit of the money he kept aside each week for such trips as this, and went to find his mother.

"Mom?" Martha Rogers was napping in her room, since her most recent play had opened the night before and she had come home late, but she opened her eyes when he touched her shoulder.

"What is it?" She blinked the sleep out of her eyes. She looked slightly alarmed.

"Don't worry, nothing's wrong. I was just looking for something to do, and I wanted to know if I could go over to Comicadia for a little while. I have money." He pointed to his pocket. "Please? Sundays are the days they get new shipments in. Who knows what they have in there right now!"

"All right, all right. Just be back in an hour!" She called after him as he raced for the door. He was in such a hurry that he was still pulling on his jacket as he entered the elevator. Outside, he buried his hands in his pockets and took off down the block, heading for the comic book store first.

The guys there knew him; he was here often enough to be certain of that. He browsed for a little while, finally selecting three comics from the bargain bin. Most of his allowance went to either comics or magic tricks, and today was a day for magic. He grinned as the man behind the register handed him the plastic bag with his comics in it—the plastic was the perfect kind to hide what was inside.

"Bye, Ricky!" The checkout man called after him as he barreled through the door. He waved with a smile, and then took off down the sidewalk. He slowed to a walk, but didn't stop until Drake's Magic Shop came into view. He paused by the windows as he always did, looking at what was displayed there. Mr. Drake was always changing it, making the displays colorful and fascinating.

The bell over the door rang its familiar ring as he stepped inside, the Comicadia bag on his wrist rustling. Mr. Drake looked up from the counter and his magazine to smile at Ricky, and then let him browse. Like Comicadia, Ricky was here often enough that Mr. Drake knew him by name. As he scanned, a display of colorfully wonderful whoopee cushions on one wall caught his eye. As he examined them, Mr. Drake spoke up. "Nice, aren't they? My boys've been pranking our house with them non-stop since we got them in two days ago. How do you like the one you bought last time?"

Rick sighed. "My mom had a friend and her daughter over for dinner the other day and the whoopee cushion got involved in a… mishap. It wasn't at all what she thought happened, and it got blown _way_ out of proportion… but my mom threw it in the trash." He mumbled with a smile. "Poor thing," he said, meaning the cushion.

Mr. Drake chuckled. "Well then are you looking for a new one?"

"I don't know. Only if I know I can keep it hidden." He still had plans on how to use it at school.

The old man winked. "I don't think you'll have a problem with that." He stepped away to tend to something across the store, leaving Ricky to his own devices. As he searched the shelves he heard the doorbell chime again; an older-sounding man greeted Mr. Drake by his first name. Ricky didn't really pay too much attention to the pair, and the only thing he saw of the old man's young companion was the top of her brunette head. He wandered for a bit, poking at things that looked cool. He didn't notice the only other customers in the store until he rounded the corner of a rack and came face-to-face with them.

It was a young girl with who could only be her grandfather, and she looked to be only a few years younger than Ricky. She held a wand in her hand, and turned to face him after a moment. Her grandfather was puttering around behind her, but all Ricky could notice were her eyes—large and hazel. How old was she? Nine, maybe ten? She smiled shyly at him, and after a moment he smiled back, his voice feeling like it was stuck in his throat. He wanted to say something, but just then her grandfather looked up and seemed to notice him for the first time, and he quickly turned away. To give his hands something to do he picked up a deck of cards, and tossed the box back and forth in his hands. Somehow, unfortunately, he failed to notice that this particular box's flap wasn't completely closed, and as it sailed towards his left hand about half the deck suddenly slipped out and flew all around his feet. His face flamed with embarrassment, but as he bent over to clean them up he heard laughter, almost bell-like in its sound. His head flew up to the girl, who was still standing alone where she was with her hand over her mouth. Her eyes now seemed to be lit from inside, glowing.

He kept staring at her as she removed her hand and walked over to him.

"Hi, I'm Katie." She said as she started picking up the cards. He noticed a slight lisp in her voice, and when she opened her mouth to smile again he saw the braces she wore, little purple rubber bands wrapped around the brackets. Before he really noticed what was going on, she had collected all the wayward cards and had them stacked neatly in her palm. "Here." He took them from her, and slid them back inside the box.

"Uh, thanks. I'm Rick." He said as he replaced the box next to the others. Girls didn't _really_ have cooties, right?

"What's in your bag?" She asked, pointing to the Comicadia bag on his arm.

"Comics." He pulled them out to show her. "I just bought them before I came here."

She looked around suddenly. "You're here by yourself?"

"Yep." He said proudly. "I live only a few blocks away from here. My mom lets me come here all the time. Mr. Drake knows me."

"He knows my grandfather, too. He always has a piece of candy behind the counter for me when I come."

They started to wander the store, and saw she was right about being a regular; she knew the store almost better than he did. "How often do you come here?" He was beginning to wonder why he had never seen her before.

"Every Sunday afternoon. My mama and dad like to do stuff on their own, and Grandfather likes to show me his magic tricks. Then we always get a pretzel."

"Like a street pretzel?" She nodded. "I love those." He said with a grin.

"Me too." She smiled.

They continued to wander for a little while, Katie helping him pick out some good tricks to try. They were over by the water tank when they heard a voice. "Katie? Katie where are you?" It was her grandfather.

"Time to go." She said, low; he barely heard. "Over here, Grandfather." He came around the corner, seeming to be slightly taken aback by Rick's presence. But he smiled. "Hi, son. What's your name?"

"I'm Rick." He shook the hand the old man extended.

"Nice to meet you, Rick," he said. "I'm Robert, and I see you met Katie here." Katie beamed from where she stood by her grandfather's elbow. "We really should be going, Katie honey."

"All right…" the girl said, tugging on the hem of her shirt. She slid the wand she was still holding back onto the shelf, and then took two steps back before pausing to turn around again.

"It was nice to meet you, Rick," she said with a smile and a little wave.

"It was nice to meet you too. Maybe I'll see you around sometime."

"Yeah, maybe. Bye!"

"Bye!"

She waved one more time; the door jingled, and then she was gone.

**Fin.**

**Can I just say that it's really, **_**really**_** hard writing from the perspective of a twelve-year-old? Especially a twelve-year-old Richard Castle?**


End file.
